Turnaround

I started today in such a Bad Mood. Once again, I was awakened in the dead of night (4:00 am) by a little girl who needed comfort, or someone to talk to, or just to be reminded that all was okay. I was not very gracious about this, though at first I really did try to be. She is suffering a bit of a cold, and was swampy with coughing and sniffles. I could tell she was hot (she insists on wearing fleece jammies even though it’s been an unseasonable 74 degrees most days lately) and I worried it was an actual fever. So some children’s Tylenol was dispensed, we both made trips to the potty, and I hoped for another 2 good hours of rest for us both.

It was not to be. I got more and more mad as the minutes ticked by. The whispering, “Is it six-oh-oh yet?” questions, the light going on in her bedroom, the panting I could hear her doing next to my face as she watched to see if I was awake yet, the four-times getting her covers messed up and needing me to fix them, tissues, water, and then the dog, too, licking the carpet incessantly which I cannot stand, even in the light of day. I threw back my own covers several times, DH did the same and threatened through clenched teeth to deposit someone back in her OWN ROOM by the time he got to THREE… it just wasn’t a pretty way to start the day.

Naturally she fell back to sleep at 5:55 a.m. I hated to wake her then, but will admit to having at least one vengeful feeling about it.

I spent the morning stewing. Not about KT, but about other things. Stress about impending holidays. Things I don’t like about my job. Coworkers who Won’t. Shut. Up. in the 8:00 hour when I’m still trying to ease into things and have my coffee. I worked myself right into a little hissy fit, in my mind. (Tired, perhaps?)

And then I went to KT’s school for the class Thanksgiving feast.

It wasn’t even that special, to be honest. The teachers must be tired this time of year, because they weren’t chipper or very welcoming at all. The 4 of us parents who made it sort-of wandered around while the kids played, and we waited for the food to be ready. There were no construction-paper pilgrim hats or Indian feathers, no singing of any songs or reciting of any Gobble-Gobble poetry. (Come on, school! Are you kidding me?) But the happiness on my little one’s face, watching me watch her with her friends, was so palpable. She was proud to show me her table, willing to eat her food, and appropriately taken aback when I asked her if could I please stay and take a nap with her, on her mat?! (“You are too big for my mat, Mommy, that’s silly!”)

Such a simple thing. It wasn’t a forced counting of blessings, even – we didn’t give thanks for the meal – but I came back to my office wanting to make a better effort at not being so angry. What was it? Getting to play with kids for 30 minutes, unhindered by time constraints or my own agenda? Sitting on a miniature red chair? Maybe the challenge of talking with three-year-olds whose language is different from my own daughter's was a brain exercise that cleared away all the other gunk? Or, just seeing someone I love dearly, in the middle of the day? Being reminded of how fast it all goes by?

I’m unsure. But pretty darn grateful.